


Lost and Found

by fragrantwoods



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, Handcuffs, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Light Bondage, Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:01:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9350102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragrantwoods/pseuds/fragrantwoods
Summary: After the rescue from New Caprica, Laura realizes in some ways, she's still in detention. A part of her self has been damaged, and she needs help to heal.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is from 2012--just realized I'd never posted it here.

He really didn’t get it, but she had asked in that slightly formal way she had when it was costing her something to speak up.

The red marks from the zip ties were still showing when he saw her the first time after New Caprica. His own wrist joints twinged as he wrapped his palms around her more delicate bones.

"If this is making you uncomfortable—“ Her eyebrows were drawn together, doubt coloring her voice.

“No, not at all…I’m just trying to think of supplies.”

“You don’t think this is unhealthy or anything?” He could read her guarded hope in her eyes.

He squeezed her wrists, then let go and took her face between his hands, tracing her cheekbones with his fingers. “You liked it before, right?”

He smiled at her faint blush. “Yeah, I did. Quite a lot, actually. I had quite an assortment of this and that in a trunk in my closet.”

Jealousy washed over him and then receded. What she used and who she used them with had been cinders for a long time.

“Laura…what happened in detention…I’m concerned that we might be risking flashbacks.” He stroked her hair and wondered if he should run this by Cottle, then wondered if she’d ever forgive him if he did.

It was her turn to wrap slender fingers around his wrists and grip tight.

“Listen to me, Bill Adama. I had my hands restrained behind me, in front of me, up over my head, my feet shackled, my waist shackled to a bolt in a filthy floor. That wasn’t this. Not any more than…the other things the Cylons and the NCP did to prisoners.” She looked away from his eyes, like she was seeing past horrors in a nearby cell, then spoke in a harsh whisper.

“If a man or woman was raped in detention, do you think they should avoid sex again, in case they have flashbacks?”

He had told himself he wouldn’t ask, he’d just listen to whatever she wanted to tell him. He kept his lips shut tight against his scorching questions and shook his head.

“If you don’t…if you can’t deal with this, Bill, I understand. I know our relationship is different now.” Sadness etched lines around her mouth that hadn’t been there before.

“Not that different. Let me see what I can do.”

.

*********************************************

 

Enough people had been lost along the way so that the general stores had a variety of goods, remnants of lives left in abandoned foot lockers. He had his model crafting tools in his quarters. It would be enough.

A week later, he invited her for dinner. After Jaffee left, Bill rearranged the plates, his back to a curious Laura. Finally, he stood back, heart in his throat. He hoped this was a good thing he’d done.

“Oh…Bill.” Her smile gave her a glow he’d missed. “They’re beautiful.” She picked up the tooled leather, cut from a belt that no longer had an owner. Both parts had been rubbed to a soft sheen, and his heart leapt as she brought them to her nose and took a deep sniff, eyes closed and humming.

“Is the hardware okay?” He came to stand at her back, his arms around her waist as she ran her fingers over the smooth polished buckles and catches.

“It’s perfect. They’re perfect.” She relaxed back into his chest and he closed his eyes in relief. “What about—“

“Hang on, Roslin. I’m not done yet.” He caught her satisfied smile out of the corner of his eye while he moved away, pulling her by the hand. “Notice anything?” He stood by his rack.

“Oh my Gods. Did you weld those yourself?”

He was ridiculously proud that he had successfully added an eyebolt over the head of his rack and one placed on the bulkhead, six feet above the deck, without once asking Chief for assistance.

“I’m a man of many talents.” He watched her carefully, looking for any sign that this was bringing back any panic or fear. All he could see was her pupils dilating and her breath coming a little faster, a light flush rising from her cleavage to begin coloring her throat. He walked behind her and slipped her jacket off her shoulders. Her fingers were already on the buttons of her blouse.

He leaned into her, pressing his lips against her creamy skin of her neck, smiling at her quiet gasp before she spoke.

“Any other talents you’d like to share, Admiral?”

“I’m pretty good at re-heating dinner when I need to.” Her breathy giggle told him he’d judged her mood correctly.

He used his command voice, confident and free of anger or scorn as he told her to strip off her clothes down to the skin. The way she had to fight back an admiring smile told him he had hit the right tone. He hoped he was drowning out other orders in crueler voices. She looked so strong and safe in her body as he fastened the first, then the second soft leather cuff around her wrists.

“Just so you know, Bill, there wasn’t anything like this in detention.”

He planted a kiss on the inside of each wrist, over her pulse, and breathed in the scent of leather and the cologne she saved to wear around him.

He was starting to see the appeal of all this.

 

*******************************************  
.

.  
An hour later, Laura was limp in his arms, her wrists still above her head as she gasped for breath, legs shaking as he held them around his waist. She had come once against his mouth, as she had twisted and pulled and shook against her restraints, one slender leg braced over his shoulder. She came again when he had moved her hips up and down on his cock as she wrapped her fingers around the leather for more leverage, him stroking her with his thumb between their bodies.

He had hung on until she met his eyes and he saw a wild, almost feral pleasure there, a huntress who had taken back her kill from a thieving predator. He lost it then, slamming into her while she pressed her mouth to her arm to muffle her screams, groaning his own release into her sweat-slicked neck.

He missed her fingers in his hair, her hands on his body, but the look in her eyes as her arms corded with welcome strain made up for what wasn't his this time. Her response, the force in her kiss when he brought his face to hers told him she was healing something deep within herself. That he had helped, made him want to weep.

“Down—I’d like to get down now, Bill,” she breathed into his ear. He gently let her legs drop from around his waist and reached up to unclip the cuffs from the bolt. She leaned against his shoulder, still catching her breath as he unbuckled each cuff. His reward finally came when she twined her now-free arms around his neck.

“Thank you.” She pulled back, serious and solemn. “I thought they might have taken that part of me, kept it back on that Godsforsaken hell-hole. And I’ve already lost so much.…” She rested her head against his shoulder as he blinked back tears.

_Not me. You’ll never lose me._

He felt her yawn against his skin and moved to let her get comfortable on his rack. He coiled the leather cuffs and slipped them into the drawer above the head of his rack, near the candles and his current book. Laura motioned to him with her hand, the pink marks on her wrist already fading.

“Yes, Madam President?”

“I believe, Admiral, you said something about your abilities at reheating dinner.” She frowned. “I hope the delay hasn’t ruined it.”

He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms again. “Nothing’s ruined here, Laura. There’s nothing wrong that can’t be fixed.”

“We’re not talking about dinner anymore, are we?”

“No,” he said. “We’re not.”


End file.
